I hired a personal trainer in the spring to help me get tone through weight lifting. He’s this outdoorsy, cute, 20-something; I am almost old enough to be his mom – he turned 25 the day after I turned 44. He’s great in the sense that he offers a nice meld of traditional and new ideas. In the beginning, he offered to give me a few sessions to show me how to lift to save me money, but I told him no. I told him, “I’m a cheater. If you’re not in my face, constantly correcting my form, then I won’t do it right, or simply just won’t do it. It’s worth the money to have you in my face constantly making me do it, and do it right.” He smirked.
So on days I cannot go to the gym when we are scheduled, I feel guilty for not making it, and I touch base with him. Below is an actual email conversation from earlier this week.
And, this ladies, is when you know you’ve got a good one.